Shut Up and Kiss Me
by BetazoidPeacock
Summary: It all starts when Jean-Luc gets a little frisky.... Not just a P/C. All main characters have their spotlight. Story Complete!
1. The Event

**__**

A/N: I don't think a disclaimer is necessary, but I want to do one anyway because it looks like fun. 

Disclaimer: You are about to witness the manipulation of characters who have NOT expressed any consent, written or otherwise, to participate in the events that I have placed them in, nor have their masters, Paramount, et. al. Seeing as this is a non-profit endeavor, I will carry it out regardless of their own wishes. Have a nice day! :-) 

Jean-Luc Picard has invited **Beverly Crusher** to his quarters fordinner—not breakfast—but dinner. They have just partaken of a scrumptious gourmet meal, which he slaved over the replicator for minutes to prepare. They are now sitting on the couch, each occupying their own respective cushion, enjoying a fine vintage Chardonnay.

****

Jean-Luc Picard: I believe a toast is in order.

****

Beverly Crusher: A toast would be lovely, Jean-Luc.

****

JL: Shall I make one?

****

Bev: Alright.

****

JL: _Suddenly becomes incredibly frisky. Playfully._ Oh, so you'd like that? Would that make you happy? Hmmm? _Raising an eyebrow, he looks at **Beverly** almost as if he is about to spring upon her the moment an affirmative issues from her lips._

****

Bev: _She is dumbfounded at Picard's uncharacteristic behavior. Quickly raises glass. _To our long-lasting friendship!

****

JL: _Also raising glass._ And to all the benefits it entails! 

__

The two clink glasses and **Bev** takes a sip of wine while **Jean-Luc** downs his whole glass.

****

Bev: Jean-Luc, are you feeling all right? 

****

JL: Why, Beverly, whatever makes you ask such a thing? _Heartily and jovially._ I feel fine! As a matter of fact, I feel better than I have in ages. 

****

Bev: Nevertheless, I think I should scan you just to be sure.

****

JL: Oh, Beverly, how I've longed to hear you speak those words! I would _love_ for you to scan me! _Scoots towards her._

****

Bev: _Oblivious to Picard's close proximity. _Now I _know_ something's not right—you normallyhate physicals! It's all I can do to get you into Sickbay twice a year.

****

JL: _As Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing._ Peace! This will stop your mouth! _He draws her into his arms and kisses her passionately._

****

Bev is completely taken by surprise. She seems to enjoy the moment, yet she pulls away from **Jean-Luc**. 

****

JL: Why, whatever is the matter, Beverly? 

****

Bev: I guess I'm just a little surprised, that's all. 

****

JL: Shall we resume, then?

****

Bev: _The longing in her eyes indicates that she desperately wants to yield to passion. Instead, she speaks. _Wait. _Gathers her wits for a speech._ Jean-Luc, in all our years together aboard the Enterprise, have you ever seen me romantically involved with anyone?

****

JL: _Now it's his turn to be thrown off guard._ Well, uh, of course, of course I have.

**__**

Bev looks at him as if wanting him to elaborate.

****

JL: _A bit uneasily._ There was Ronin.

****

Bev: A ghost. _Disgustedly, as she reminisces. _Who made love to my grandmother.

****

JL: Yes, well, there was Odan.

****

Bev: A parasitic entity.

****

JL: Right…_deep in thought_…Aha! Me!

****

Bev: You? I don't seem to recall—

****

JL: _Astounded. _What? You don't remember that glorious moment that we shared in my ready room, you pressed against the wall, our lips—

****

Bev: Jean-Luc!! We were under the effects of the Tsiolkovsky virus!

****

JL: So?!

****

Bev: _Exasperated that **Picard** is missing the point, she sighs, then:_ Don't you see? All—I mean both—of my romantic interests while serving as the Enterprise's CMO have been with non-human entities. Let me explain. When Jack passed away, I promised myself that I'd never fall in love with another man. After awhile, that promise became a little difficult to keep, if you know what I mean.

**__**

Picard nods his head vigorously. He knows.

****

Bev: I needed to have some sort of, of. _Embarrassed, she comes out and says it. _Some sort of _lover_. I didn't want to break my resolution, so I found ways around it, assuming that, in my promise, "man" refers only to human males. 

****

JL: So, what you're saying is, you can't love me because I'm a man?

****

Bev: Of the same species as myself.

****

JL: Yes. _An idea dawns on him._ Can you wait here for just a minute? I'll be right back.

**__**

Picard nearly sprints to his bathroom, leaving **Beverly** to mull over her thoughts.

****

JL: _To the replicator._ One pair of prosthetic Vulcan ears, fair skin tone.

__

The pointed ears appear, and **Picard** dons them, adjusting them in the mirror. He then walks back into the living area with a hint of a confident swagger in his step.

****

Bev: _Aroused from her meditation, she immediately notices Picard's new "look", and is clearly amused._ You didn't tell me this was going to be a masquerade event!

****

JL: Look Beverly, I'm a Vulcan! You can make love to me!

__

With that exclamation, **Picard** throws himself onto a space on the sofa, which just happens to include part of **Beverly**. He commences kissing her again, this time plunging his hands into her luscious auburn hair as he does so. Just then, the door chime sounds. The two occupants of the room are rather engaged at the moment, so no notice is taken of the chime. **Will Riker** enters the room, phaser at the ready. **Wesley Crusher** just happens to be walking by the open door, and, being the curious little bugger that he is, **Wes** decides to peek into the Captain's private life. His eyes widen at the peculiar sight within, and he frantically runs down the corridor, looking for someone he can report his findings to. He nearly barrels into a very bewildered **Deanna Troi**, and she has to put her arms out to stop him from running smack into her chest. 

****

Deanna Troi: _Concernedly._ Wes, why are you in such a hurry? 

****

Wesley Crusher: _Struggling to catch his breath, (he's not very athletic)._ It's—it's—my—

****

DT: _With excited anticipation._ Out with it, Wes! I sense extreme passion and desire somewhere on this deck, and I'm hoping to locate its source.

****

Wes: _Having regained his breath, but not his composure._That's exactly what I want to tell you! I know where the passionate feelings are coming from!

****

DT: _Walking toward Picard's quarters._ Please, Wesley, I know that you are a child prodigy and can solve nearly every problem that we come across, but just because you already have this little quandary figured out, doesn't mean that I want you to ruin it for me.

**__**

Deanna, like a hound dog sniffing out a trail, comes to a halt in front of Picard's quarters. She is about to ring the chime when **Riker** comes out, blushing furiously.

****

DT: Will?! _Looking around **Will** and into the room, she notices **Bev** and **Jean-Luc** on the couch, now in a rather inclined (though fully clothed) position._ Oh my gosh! 

__

Clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a squeal, **Deanna** locks her arm in Riker's and drags him down the hall. **Wesley** follows behind.

****

DT: I knew it!!! I knew Bev and Captain Picard were in love! I just had no idea _how deeply _they were in!

****

Will Riker: _Having come out of his initial shock, **Will** realizes that his superior officer is a tiger!_ _Consequently, he bursts into laughter._ I have _never_ seen anything so funny before!

****

Wes: I'm scarred for life!

****

DT: _Completely overlooking this prime opportunity to show off her counseling skills._ Wait 'til I tell Bev—oops, I forgot—she already knows! _More hysterical laughter._

****

Deanna and **Will** disperse to tell anyone they come across—especially the other senior officers—their juicy gossip. **Wesley** returns to his quarters to devise a memory-erasing device for himself.

Meanwhile, **Picard** has begun to unzip Beverly's wispy floral dress.

****

Bev: _Coming around to her senses. _Jean-Luc, wait. We can't do this.

****

JL: Oh, yes, of course. _Heroically. _You needn't worry, Beverly. I sneaked a Pill or two out of Sickbay when you weren't looking.

****

Bev: _Half-amused._ No, that's not it. I think it in our best interests to end our encounter just when it's heated up, the way we always do.

****

JL: Are you sure?

****

Bev: No.

__

They pick up where they left off.

****

Bev: _After about 30 seconds, she pulls away._ Now I'm sure.

****

JL: I suppose you're right. Although there really is no logical reason for us not to—_He is met with a mock glare of disapproval from **Bev**._ I suppose you're right. 

__

Awkward pause. **Jean-Luc** beholds **Beverly**. Her dress is sliding off of one shoulder, her hair is tousled, her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes convey the desire of her heart that she is attempting to quell with her mind. **Jean-Luc** is using every speck of his willpower to refrain from ripping that dress off entirely. 

****

JL: _In a pitch a bit higher than usual_**.**I—I'd best be going.

****

Bev: But these are _your_ quarters!

****

JL: Right. _Pause._ Pardon me. 

**__**

Jean-Luc races to his washroom. A moment later, the shower is heard, as well as whoops and exclamations of "Cold! Cold!". **Bev** rearranges herself, and, not trusting her own self-restraint, shouts a hasty farewell to **Jean-Luc**, and quickly returns to her own room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tune in next time for: "The Morning After"!

**__**

A/N: I can't and/or am not inclined to write a true love scene. My apologies to anyone who was expecting deeper P/C passion.


	2. The Morning After

**__**

Deanna Troi and **Beverly Crusher** are sitting back-to-back on the floor of the physical recreation room. **Deanna** is bedecked in a deep purple long-sleeved Spandex leotard with violet tights, sans shoes. Her incredibly thick curls are tied back with a matching lavender scarf. **Bev** is wearing a matching outfit (how cute) in royal blue, sky blue, and periwinkle. They have their arms linked.** Bev** does not know that **Deanna** knows what she was up to the previous night.

****

Deanna Troi: _Pulling Bev forward._ …And you'll never guess what's on them—_Pause._—Little pink baby ducks!

__

They giggle like schoolgirls.

****

Bev: That's nothing. Captain Picard's boxers have beret-wearing kittens sleeping in teacups on them! 

__

More girlish giggling.

****

DT: _Jumping on the opportunity to get **Bev** to tell her what happened._ Beverly! How do you know that?

****

Bev: _With perfect innocence._ Oh, he told me. How did you know about Will's?

****

DT: _Thankful that her friend does not have her empathetic abilities._Uh, he also told me, of course. Shame on you, Bev!

__

Yet another giggle session, then:

****

DT: _As **Bev** pulls her forward._ I didn't know that you and the Captain were on such intimate terms.

****

Bev: _Hastily._We're not! I mean, we're very good friends, if that's what you're implying.

****

DT: I'm not implying anything. _Warmly._ However, if you have something you'd like to share—

****

Bev: Me? What would I have to share? Don't be silly, Deanna!

****

DT: You're the one being silly. Bev, you know I can sense you're hiding something.

__

They stand up, still back-to-back.

****

Bev: _Tentatively._ Do you know what it is I'm hiding?

****

DT: Not exactly.

__

The two have finished their exercises and are now standing facing each other.

****

Bev: What I am hiding is—a surprise! For you!

****

DT: _Loving the "torture" she's putting her friend through._ Give it up, Crusher. I can sense deception, too, you know.

****

Bev: Yes, I seemed to have overlooked that. This is the truth: Last night, Jean-Luc invited me to his quarters for what I thought was going to be a purely platonic dinner. Everything was quite normal until he opened a bottle of wine.

****

DT: Synthehol?

****

Bev: No, I think it was the real stuff.

****

DT: So Captain Picard was smashed?

****

Bev: I don't think so. He made his advances on me, then drank the wine.

****

DT: And?

****

Bev: Believe me, Deanna, I tried to discourage him, but he was like, like some sort of animal! 

****

DT: Let me guess, you gave into the throes of passion and nearly ended up on top of Captain Picard with your dress on the floor!

****

Bev: _Amazed._ Well, yes—how did you know?

****

DT: _Realizing she almost was caught._ Lucky guess. Ooh wow, look at the time. I'd better go—I have an 0900 appointment.

****

Bev: _Still a little surprised._ Okay…bye.

__

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

****

A/N: My apologies for the brevity of this chapter. The next chapter will likely be about the guys.


	3. The Gossip

**__**

Geordi LaForge, Data, **Worf, **and **Duffy (random one-pip engineer) **are seated around a table in Ten Forward enjoying a little off-duty synthehol, or, in Worf's case, prune juice. **Data** is drinking merely to enhance the others' perception of him as "one of the guys."

****

GL: You guys will never guess what I found out last night.

****

Duffy: What?

****

GL: Guess.

****

Duffy: I don't know. That real women are better than Holodeck babes?

**__**

Duffy breaks out in friendly laughter at the peeved expression on Geordi's face. Even **Worf** lets out a faint growl-like chuckle.

****

Data: _With sincere concern._ Geordi, are you plagued by a disorder similar to Lieutenant Barclay's?

****

GL: No, Data. Duffy was just joking. _Eyeing **Duffy**._ Wasn't he?

****

Duffy: _Quickly shaping up._ Yes, Sir.

****

GL: _Sternly._ And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Sir off-duty? _Smiles good-naturedly._ Now, about my juicy info. Did any of you see the Captain last night?

****

Worf: Captain Picard was not on duty last night.

****

GL: Oh, yes he was!

__

All are confused.

****

GL: On looooove duty. And, so was Dr. Crusher, if you get my drift.

****

Worf: _Looking uncomfortable._ It is dishonorable to—gossip.

****

GL: Worf, it can't be gossip if it's true.

****

Worf: In that case, I heard that they achieved _nga'chug_.

****

Data: _Nga'chug_. Accessing. _Eyes dart side-to-side for a moment, then:_Ah. Sexual pleasure arising when a male and a female—

**__**

Geordi's and **Duffy's** eyes widen.

****

GL and Duffy: What?!

****

Duffy: _Attempting to outdo **Worf**._ Well, that makes sense, considering I****heard that—that—that Dr. Crusher's expecting!

****

GL: C'mon, Duff, you know you just made that up.

****

Duffy: Yeah, you're right. But I did hear rumors that they were together last night. I just brushed them off as stories until now.

****

Data: It would seem that the majority of the Enterprise's 1,947 adult passengers are aware of Captain Picard's and Dr. Crusher's prospective activities last night.

****

GL: _Lets out a soft whistle._ News doesn't travel thatfast when a shipwide announcement is made during red alert!

****

Guinan: _Seemingly appearing out of nowhere._ More prune juice, Worf? 

****

Worf: No. Thank you. I must return to my quarters and inflict pain upon myself.

****

Guinan: _In an initially calm but increasingly threatening tone._ That would be nice. But let me tell you how this is gonna work. You're gonna stay here until you've finished this glass of prune juice. Maybe you're not aware of the fact that I just took my valuable time and energy to, first of all, pick up a mental signal from you saying you wanted more prune juice, haul my 1000-year-old ass over to the replicator, order you the juice, and then walk the juice from behind the bar all the way over to your table. Now, if this glass is not emptied within five minutes, you're gonna learn something about the El-Aurean method of inflicting pain. Nobody and I mean nobody tells Guinan what they do and do not want to drink.

__

Every eye in Ten Forward is on **Worf**. In extreme dishonor, the Klingon picks up the prune juice and drinks every last drop of it.

****

Guinan: _Sweetly and sincerely._ There, now, I'm glad you enjoyed that. _She returns to the bar._

****

Duffy: _After picking his jaw up from the floor. _Whoa. Worf, are you okay? 

****

GL: Yeah, man, she really chewed you out.

****

Worf: _If Klingons could blush visibly, he'd be bright red._ I must go now. _He leaves._

****

Geordi, **Data**, and **Duffy** resume conversation. After about five minutes' time, **Deanna** and **Beverly** enter Ten Forward. They seat themselves at the bar.

****

Guinan: _Warmly._ Deanna, Bev, nice to see you.

****

DT: Hello, Guinan.

****

Bev: Hi, Guinan.

****

Guinan: _Producing two syntheholic beverages, one blue, the other green, and both bubbly. _Here you are.

****

DT and Bev: Thanks.

__

The occupants of Geordi's table notice that one of the topics of their conversation has just entered.

****

Duffy: Well, this is weird. I never looked at Dr. Crusher in this way before.

****

Data: In what way are you looking at her?

****

Duffy: A hungry one.

****

Data: _With a look of confusion._ While consuming another human would provide substantial nutritional benefits, cannibalism is widely considered to be a barbaric and socially unacceptable practice.

****

GL: Ew, Data, no. We seriously need to update your program on "casual conversation." 

****

Duffy: _With a crazed determination in his eyes._ Watch this, boys.

**__**

Duffy saunters up to the bar and positions himself to the right of **Beverly**. 

****

Duffy: _Suavely._ Hi. _He flashes a cheesy grin._

****

Bev: Um, hi. _She studies him._ I'm sorry, do I know you?

****

Duffy: Ouch, babe, that hurts.

**__**

Bev raises an eyebrow.

****

Duffy: Don't you remember? Three weeks ago. Biobed malfunction. Around 1500 hours. 

****

Bev: _Hesitantly._ Yes—

****

Duffy: _Overconfidently._ Yeah, it's all coming back now, isn't it? _Suggestively._ Why don't we—reminisce—in my quarters? I think it's about time for my biannual physical.

****

Bev: How dare you proposition me? _With that she slaps him—hard—across the face. _C'mon, Deanna, let's get out of here. _They leave._

****

Data: Geordi, did Duffy just get—"burned"?

****

GL: He sure did.

**__**

Duffy returns to his table.

****

Duffy: I don't know what came over me. _Humbly._ I guess I'm just no match for a bald French sophisticate with a starship.

****

GL: _Patting **Duffy** on the back._ Don't worry about it, man. At least you tried.

**__**

Wesley Crusher enters. **Geordi** and **Duffy** quickly turn their chairs around in an attempt to conceal their identities. **Wesley** surveys Ten Forward, desperately looking for someone he knows. A nerdy grin spreads across Wes's face when he spots his three "friends." He heads toward their table.** Geordi** and **Duffy** roll their eyes.

****

Wesley Crusher: Hi, guys! Mind if I join you?

****

GL: Whoa, Wesley! Didn't see you come in! Sure, have a seat.

****

Data: Good evening, Wesley.

****

Wes: Hi, Data. _Noticing the conspicuous red blotch on Duffy's left cheek._ Duffy, what happened to you?

****

Duffy: _Mumbles._ A woman.

****

Wes: Who? I might know her.

****

Data: You are correct in assuming that you are familiar with the woman who struck Ensign Duffy. Wesley, it was your mother.

****

Wes: Wow. I thought she only did that to me!

****

Duffy: Apparently not!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	4. The Device

**__**

Will Riker lounges poolside at The Palms resort in Kingston, Jamaica, circa 1963. A private cocktail fête is underway, and international socialites are sipping drinks, engaging in lively chatter, and generally trying to look beautiful. **Will** is garbed in an unbuttoned, cream-colored cabana shirt, khaki shorts, and Moroccan sandals. He is sitting alone, but he has his eye on a particularly voluptuous blonde at a table across the patio. She notices that she is under surveillance, and sashays over to her observer, giving **Will** a delicious view of her bikini. The bikini top is adorned with two large pineapples. The woman stands in front of Riker's table.

****

Will Riker: _With a British accent._ Tell me, is it true that pineapple tastes best when chilled?

****

Woman: _In a sultry Hungarian voice._ Yes. You certainly know your fruits.

****

Will: That may be, however, I am always game for learning more about them.

__

A heavyset **waiter** in a white suit exchanges a barely detectable glance with the **woman**, then approaches **Will**.

****

Waiter: Can I get you anything, Sir?

****

Will: I'll have a martini—

__

Before **Will** can finish his sentence, the waiter has a small handgun at Will's back. Without missing a beat, **Will** reaches behind and thrusts the waiter's arm away, sending the gun sliding across the ground. He throws a punch that hits the waiter's jaw dead center. Party guests flee the pool area, shrieking and screaming. The **waiter** pushes **Will** into the table, but **Will** quickly frees himself by pushing the man off of him with his leg. While the **waiter** is attempting to regain his breath, **Will** pulls a pistol out of the pocket of his shorts, and a moment later the **waiter** hits the ground with a thud, blood streaming from the bullet wound in his head. 

****

Will: …shaken, not stirred.

****

Woman: _In feigned amazement._ Who are you?

****

Will: Bond. James Bond. And you?

****

Woman: Nora Gazim.

****

Will: Miss Gazim, would you care for a swim?

****

Nora Gazim: Ah, a svim would be lovely. _Flirtatiously._ But, Mr. Bond, it appears that you are not vearing a svimsuit.

****

Will: No matter. We seem to have the pool all to ourselves. _He begins unfastening his shorts._

****

Woman #2: Yes, it's just the three of us here.

****

Will: _Tentatively._ Deanna?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**__**

Beverly enters her quarters, still trying to make sense of being hit on in Ten Forward.

****

Bev: _To herself._ At least I have time for a nice, warm bubble bath.

__

She proceeds to the bathroom. On the way, she peeks into Wesley's bedroom and sees a gigantic machine, which definitely had not been there the last time she checked. Upon further investigation, she still cannot make heads or tails of the function of the machine or of how it works. She simply shakes her head.

****

Bev: That boy….

****

Wesley: Did you call, Mom?

****

Bev: Wesley! Where did you come from?

****

Wes: _With a goofy grin._ Gee, Mom, you of all people should know.

****

Bev: No, I mean I didn't hear you come in.

****

Wes: _With a satisfied smirk._ I try.

****

Bev: _Under her breath._ Whatever.

****

Wes: So did you need me for something?

****

Bev: I was going to ask you—_Pointing to Wesley's memory-erasing device._ —What in the world is this—this—this contraption?

****

Wes: _Looking at it curiously._ Golly, I don't know.

****

Bev: _Deeply hurt._ Wesley, I thought we agreed to tell each other everything!

****

Wes: No, I really don't know, Mom.

****

Bev: Don't you talk back to me, young man!

****

Wes: _On the verge of crying._ I told you, I don't know! I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!

****

Bev: That's it, I'm getting the belt.

****

Wes: _Screaming and in tears._ Noooooooo! Not the belt, please, please, not the belt! _Before **Bev** even moves to get a belt to whip him with, **Wes** is under his bed, unreachable by **Bev**._

****

Bev: Oh, great. Not again. _Taps her commbadge._ Doctor Crusher to Commander Riker.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Deanna Troi: Go ahead, 007. Don't forego your little swim on my account. 

**__**

Will nervously glances at his unbuttoned shorts.

****

DT: Don't worry. There's nothing I haven't seen before.

__

Will's commbadge sounds. He taps it.

****

Will: Riker here.

****

Bev's Voice: Will, this is Beverly. I have a situation here in my quarters.

****

Will: Wesley again?

****

Bev's Voice: Yeah.

****

Will: I'll be right there. Riker out. _Taps commbadge._ _Resuming British accent._ If you'll excuse me, ladies, I have some business to attend to. I know, I know, disappointing, isn't it? So goes the life of a world-class agent. Computer, save then exit program Riker007. 

__

The Holodeck returns to its black and yellow grid pattern. **Will** is about to leave but is stopped by **Deanna** before he reaches the door.

****

DT: Aren't you forgetting something?

****

Will: _Thinks for a second, then glances down at his partially opened shorts._ Oh, right. _Fastens button._ Thanks.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

__

The door chime sounds in Dr. Crusher's quarters.

****

Bev: Come in.

**__**

Will _enters._

****

Will: I'll take it from here. 

**__**

Will walks straight to Wesley's bedroom. He's obviously accustomed to having to do this.

****

Will: Wesley?

****

Wes: _Sniffling._ Commander Riker?

****

Will: That's right. How about you come out from under there and tell me what happened?

****

Wes: I—I'm scared.

****

Will: Wesley, c'mon, it's your Uncle Will!

****

Wes: Well, okay. 

**__**

Wes crawls out from under the bed and **Will** and he sit next to each other on the edge of the bed.

****

Will: That's a good boy. Now, what happened?

****

Wes: I came back from Ten Forward, and my mom was looking at this machine here, right? Then she started asking me what it was, and I'd never seen it before in my life, so I said that I didn't know, but she wouldn't listen, and then she threatened to beat me!

****

Will: _Struggling to keep from laughing at how pathetic **Wesley** is, and fully understanding why **Bev** is driven mad by him._ Why don't we sit down with your mother, and the three of us can sort this mess out.

__

They go to the dining table and sit down with **Bev.**

Bev: Look, Wesley, I'm sorry. I just wanted to know what that machine does so that I can make sure it won't wreak havoc upon the entire ship the way some of your experiments and devices do.

****

Wes: I don't understand what it's doing there any more than you do. It appears to be of superior craftsmanship, and I'm the only person on the Enterprise who possesses the genius ability to have created it. If I did make it, I certainly don't remember doing it.

**Bev:** It wasn't there when I came home last night.

****

Will: You went home last night?

****

Bev: Why wouldn't I have?

****

Will: Uh, well, you know. Your little dinner and dessert with Captain Picard.

****

Bev: Will! _Whispering, as if **Wes** can't hear her._ How did you find out about that?

****

Will: _Also whispering._ You mean you didn't see me come in Captain Picard's door?

****

Bev: No. You shouldn't have said anything. Wesley doesn't know about it.

****

Wes: _(Who's been listening intently to the whispered conversation.)_ _Groaning._ Oh, no! That's it! That's why I couldn't remember what that device is.

**__**

Bev and **Will** look at him with puzzled expressions.

****

Wes:I must have accidentally seen something I wasn't supposed to see, and, therefore, built a memory-erasing device to obliterate the image from my mind. Now I'll have to use it all over again!

****

Bev: _Beaming with pride at her son's ingenuity and talent._ That's my boy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**__**

A/N: **James Bond is not mine, but Nora Gazim (Get it? Hehe, I'm naughty.) is. Will was called in to coax Wesley out of hiding because, as you may have noticed from watching the series, Will seems to be Wes's special friend. What Will sees in Wesley is beyond me. **


	5. The Discovery

**__**

Riker, **Picard**, **Deanna**, **Data**, **Wesley**, and **Worf** are at their usual stations on the bridge. Everyone is simply staring at the panoramic onscreen view of a spectacular nebula. Though the crew of the Enterprise have seen formations nearly identical to this one before, they still seem to be unbelievably impressed and intrigued. 

****

Jean-Luc Picard: Mr. Data, are the sensors detecting any abnormal fluctuations emanating from the nebula?

****

Data: The nebula is producing mild but potentially dangerous subspace radiation waves, the average length of which is 493.8 meters.

****

JP: Lt. Worf, open hailing frequencies. We must attempt to communicate with the nebula.

****

Worf: Hailing frequencies open. Sir.

****

JP: _Standing, for dramatic effect._ This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship Enterprise. If you can hear the sound of my voice, please respond. _Silence._ A simple yes or no will suffice. _More silence._

****

Data: Captain, our sensors are not detecting any signs of life whatsoever within the nebula.

****

JP: _Sits back down, slightly embarrassed._ Oh.

****

Deanna Troi: _Emotionally._ Captain, I sense pain! Terrible, terrible pain!

****

JP: _Hopefully._ Aha! I knew there was life out there! What is it, Deanna? A luminous, nonmaterial entity? Or, perhaps, sentient particles too miniscule for even our advanced technology to detect?

****

DT: Ow! No, it's Commander Riker! He's pinching me!

__

Sure enough, **Riker** is reaching behind the Captain's chair, and is pinching **Deanna**.

****

Will Riker: _Quickly retracting his arm._ No I'm not!

****

DT: _Rubbing her arm._ Not anymore….

****

JP: _Taps commbadge._ Captain Picard to Dr. Crusher.

****

Bev's voice: Crusher here.

****

JP: You're needed on the bridge immediately. 

****

Bev's voice: Is the situation important enough for me to wear my lab coat?

****

JP: Naturally.

****

Bev's voice: I'm on my way. Crusher out.

__

Thirty seconds elapse during which the bridge crew twiddle their thumbs and engage in idle chatter.

****

Will: _Very casually to **Deanna**, as if he had not just a moment ago pinched her._ So, I was thinking, maybe when we go to Risa for shore leave, I would, you know, hit the beach or something.

****

DT: _Feigning disinterest._ Hm.

****

Will: I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to join me.

****

JP: _Casually and calmly._ Now, Will, I never said for certain that we would be going to Risa. You know how I detest vacationing.

**__**

Bev steps onto the bridge from the turbolift. Her eyes dart about the room as she searches for the victim. 

****

Bev: _Urgently._ Where's the medical emergency?

__

Everyone looks around. Finally, **Deanna** half-raises her hand, almost as if afraid of getting in trouble, or perhaps of getting a hypospray.

****

Bev: Deanna, is it you?

****

DT: Y-yes.

****

JP: _Scolding._ Come now, Dr. Crusher. Don't tell me that you couldn't even detect the victim of a horrible tragedy!

****

DT: But Captain, I only got pinched!

****

JP: Yes, but by an extraordinarily powerful beast!

**__**

Riker beams at the compliment. **Bev** moves to scan **Deanna** with her tricorder. Finding nothing, she asks **Deanna** to show her the "wound", and she pulls up her sleeve and points at a faint red mark.

****

JP: You see? _Pointing at **Bev **and raising his voice. _That's what I'm talking about! That incompetence! Shame on you, having to ask your patients where they are wounded. And that incompetence, my dear Beverly, is the reason why our relationship is over!

****

Bev: _Dramatically._ You're—you're breaking up with me?!

****

JP: I'm doing it for your own good: I don't believe you can handle me! Why, I doubt that you, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise, are even aware of the purposes of all the parts of the male body!

****

Bev: Oh, I'm very familiar with them. And, on top of that, I can tell when some of those parts are missing! 

****

JP: I do not have to sit here and take this harassment. Number One, you have the bridge. _He storms off the bridge and into the turbolift. _

****

Bev is steaming with rage. **Deanna** is trying to probe Bev's emotions so she can alert everyone within earshot, including **Bev**, that she senses hostility. **Will** has quickly jumped into the Captain's chair, relishing his temporary power. **Wes** is pretending he heard and saw nothing.

****

Will: _Pompously. _Let us boldly go where no one has gone before! _Pointing finger at viewscreen. _Engage!

****

Wes: But Sir, you haven't specified any coordinates.

****

Will: _With a devil-may-care attitude. _Mr. Data, what do you think about flying smack dab into the center of that nebula?

****

Data: The odds of the Enterprise emerging without incurring damage are very slight.

****

Will: That sounds reasonable. Ensign Crusher, plot a course that will take us to the center of the nebula!

****

Wes: _With a cheesy grin._ Aye, Sir!

****

Will: _Pointing finger with even more gusto than before._ Engage!

**__**

Bev exits via the turbolift, unbeknownst to everyone else, since all are gripping their armrests or consoles until their knuckles are white out of fear of the unknown interior of the nebula.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

__

In the turbolift.

****

Bev: Well that went well.

****

JP: I agree. You are quite the actress, Beverly.

****

Bev: Why thank you. You weren't so bad yourself, you know.

****

JP: If history repeats itself, word of our little performance should have circulated the Enterprise before breakfast tomorrow.

__

The ship is suddenly jolted by the harsh atmospheric conditions of the nebula's interior, causing the two occupants of the turbolift to fall onto the ground. **Jean-Luc**, taking advantage of the situation, flops closer to **Bev**, pinning her in a corner.

****

JP: _Shouting._ Turbulence! _Flailing his arms around **Bev**. _Oh! More turbulence!

****

Bev: _Playfully._ You naughty, naughty boy!

****

JP: Aren't you going to tell me to stop, that you want to love me but can't?

****

Bev: I know that's what I always say, but, Jean-Luc, this time we're inside a nebula. 

****

JP: Well, we certainly can't let this opportunity pass us by.

****

Bev: _Flinging off her lab coat. _We certainly can't.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **The End** ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**__**

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would greatly appreciate any reviews, and they don't have to be praise. Thanks!


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